


performance

by frausorge



Category: Mansfield Park - Jane Austen
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 07:20:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17700050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frausorge/pseuds/frausorge
Summary: Fanny began going more and more often to the Parsonage.





	performance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraCloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraCloud/gifts).



> Hi AuroraCloud, thanks for a great prompt! Just to mention, I fixed the issue I sent a query about so there should be no more concerns there. I hope you enjoy this!
> 
> Many thanks to Pensnest for going above and beyond on beta reading.

Fanny began going more and more often to the Parsonage, after the day when the rainstorm had occasioned her first involuntary visit. She did not flatter herself that she held any greater attraction for Miss Crawford than that of novelty; yet to have her presence requested, even demanded, to be welcomed warmly upon her arrival and pressed to return upon every departure, these were attentions to which Fanny was not insensible; and she soon found that she could not stay away for more than a day or two before feeling that it was time for another visit.

The hours she spent in Miss Crawford's company were far from uniformly pleasant, however. Miss Crawford's quick wit ran unchecked upon many subjects which Fanny was sorry to hear treated with so little reverence. Fanny found herself sometimes forced to repress a smile, at other times barely able to conceal her dismay, and in either case all too often unable to form any adequate reply. Then again, there were several occasions when Fanny exerted herself to speak at greater length, only to find Miss Crawford not attending; and though Fanny could not be surprised, she could still be pained at her failure to hold Miss Crawford's interest. 

Her chief recourse at such times was to ask Miss Crawford to play to her upon the harp. This request seemed never to go amiss. It pleased Miss Crawford in her lively moods and soothed her in her discontented ones. The opportunity of playing to an audience was always acceptable to her, and, what was more, she did seem to take real pleasure in the music itself, just as Fanny had real pleasure in hearing it. There Miss Crawford's taste and Fanny's were most closely aligned, and their mutual enjoyment most thoroughly assured; there Fanny need not brace herself against remarks and innuendos, but could give herself over without reserve to the influence Miss Crawford's performances exerted upon her. The minutes she spent listening to Miss Crawford play gave her the most unalloyed happiness she ever experienced in Miss Crawford's company.

Fanny had not the advantage, which an earlier listener had enjoyed, of the rich greenery of summer to look at through the window near which the harp was placed. But she was hardly the loser by the change of season, for to a mind such as hers there was sweetness in the lingering leaves and bared branches of autumn as well. And Miss Crawford herself was also no less worth looking at than Fanny had found her upon their first introduction. Fanny could have watched the deft movements of Miss Crawford's fingers upon the strings and the rapt concentration on Miss Crawford's face for far longer than she had time to sit idle in the Parsonage.

Miss Crawford had just brought a particularly expressive piece to its close when Fanny, still dwelling on the last soft and melting phrases of the music, became aware that Miss Crawford was now observing her. 

"Miss Price, you look positively melancholy," Miss Crawford declared. "Is this my doing? Have I brought your spirits low, when my intention was just the reverse?"

Fanny could not quite tell how she should answer. "Your music always moves me," she began haltingly. Miss Crawford did not let her advance beyond this.

"Then I am indeed to blame. This must not be." Miss Crawford left her seat at the harp and came to sit by Fanny upon the sofa, twining her arm round Fanny's neck. "Come, let me make amends and console you. The sad song is past and we may laugh at the world again."

Fanny had grown somewhat accustomed to Miss Crawford's tactile friendship, and no longer startled when Miss Crawford squeezed both her hands in excitement, or rubbed briskly at Fanny's arms to warm her when they had been sitting too long in the wind. For all that, however, Fanny felt herself unprepared for the closeness of this embrace. Miss Crawford rested her head on Fanny's shoulder, then lifted it again and pressed first her cheek and then her lips to Fanny's own glowing cheek. Fanny drew in a hasty breath. 

"Come," Miss Crawford murmured again. Fanny turned her head, and somehow, she could hardly tell how, her lips met Miss Crawford's in a kiss.

She did not know how long it lasted. Miss Crawford's arms tightened around her, and the mouth that had felt so soft a moment ago became firm and insistent against Fanny's. Fanny felt that she must seek something there where they were joined—that she must return in search of it again and again. She pressed herself forward, and felt Miss Crawford's fingertips move in cool lines across the nape of her neck. 

Then, just as suddenly, the two of them broke apart and fell back to opposite ends of the sofa.

"I must—" Fanny said, when she thought she could control her breathing. "I must return, to the Park—I am sure it is beyond time. My aunt Bertram must have been wanting me this half hour."

"Of course," said Miss Crawford. She had lifted her head and was wearing once again her usual careless smile. "You must go and be useful, and I shall go and plague my sister till she finds some entertainment for me."

Fanny could not attempt any answer. She got to her feet, bowed, and hurried for the door.

 

She spent the afternoon in outward quiet but an inward state of marked confusion. What Miss Crawford had meant by kissing her, and whether Miss Crawford had meant anything by it at all, were questions that could not be repressed whenever Lady Bertram's errands left Fanny a moment to think. Yet serious reflection was equally impossible. Even when Fanny retired for the night, she could not fix her thoughts on the events of the morning in any orderly fashion. She could only marvel, and doubt, and flush at her own behaviour. She slept heavily, but found herself not much refreshed when she awoke.

A few days spent entirely in the usual routine of home left Fanny somewhat more settled, but could not restore her to full tranquility. Though the thought of returning to the Parsonage caused her great trepidation, she knew she could not be easy till she had seen Miss Crawford again. She put off her next visit by an additional day, and then another. Finally she determined that she should go the next morning, as absenting herself any further would likely draw more attention than she would wish. 

Even so, she was met with teasing reproaches from Mrs Grant upon entering the house. "So, Miss Price, you have come back to us at last! I believe I must scold you for neglect, for Mary has been terribly dull without you. You must promise not to stay away so long again."

"I hope Miss Crawford has not been taken ill," said Fanny.

"Oh! no," said Mrs Grant. "There is nothing much the matter with her. She is only listless." They had now reached the drawing room. She opened the door and said, "Mary! Look who has come to call on you."

Miss Crawford turned slowly away from the window at which she was sitting. When she saw Fanny standing in the doorway, an expression of such hope came over her face that Fanny found it almost easy to smile and hold a hand out to her—easier than it had ever been before.


End file.
